


The Woman in Blue

by frackingforaffection



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: After the Post-Timeskip Battle at Gronder Field (Fire Emblem), Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd Needs a Hug, Feral Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Mentioned Edelgard von Hresvelg, Mentioned Hubert von Vestra, POV Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Sad Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, Spoilers, Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Suicide, dimileth if you squint really really hard, dimitri is anna karenina and the imperial soldiers are the train, suicide ideation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:53:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27736423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frackingforaffection/pseuds/frackingforaffection
Summary: In the immediate aftermath of the Battle of the Eagle and Lion part 2, Dimitri tears through the forest—furious that Edelgard has escaped his grasp once again. A squad of imperial soldiers breaks his vengeful focus, and he realizes there's more than one way to silence the screams of the dead.Or, Dimitri makes a decision and sees a new ghost.(VW and SS route—not AM).Serious content warnings for suicide and suicide ideation.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	The Woman in Blue

He had taken an arrow to his leg when that woman vanished, howling like a beast when it pierced his muscle. He was so close, just seconds from appeasing the dead, and every impediment split his brain with Stepmother’s curses. He yanked the damned thing out, letting the hot blood marry with sweat as it creeped down his calf and soaked through his sock. He shivered at the warmth.

That vampiric dog of hers couldn’t have taken her far. Just a few more steps, and he would finally be at her neck. This time, he wouldn’t waste his breath with the foolish words of a king, only the quick action of a beast. He had learned his lesson, Father, and he would swiftly deliver her head as promised. It wouldn’t be long before Stepmother could finally look at him with adoration and pride instead of scorn and disgust, and Glenn could finally stop screaming. 

Who else would emerge from today’s carnage? He had warned them they would all be used, and a frivolous thing like pity for pawns he once called friends wouldn’t get between his hand and her throat. It was their choice to follow him into the thicket, and his thorns proved no match for the revolting poison of chivalry. He spat as he thought of their concerned faces and cautious words—how they stuck their intrusive fingers in his cage as if he wouldn’t snap straight through the bone. They should have taken one look at the beast before them and returned to their soft furs and hot meals where they could forget all about the fallen Crown Prince of Faerghus. It would be easier if no one ever thought about him ever again. 

He stumbled through the forest and wondered why his surroundings moved so slowly. Sunlight seared his vision and whatever remained of his right eye cried in shock. Had his patch fallen off? He couldn’t recall. Through bleary wetness, he spied a small group of imperial soldiers through the trees—ten, maybe eleven—about fifty yards away, their sharp lances attractive in the light. They didn’t matter, only that woman mattered, so why was he changing direction to move toward them? Wasn’t there something else he was supposed to do? 

There was no telling if he would make it another fifty yards, let alone another ten, but a foreign instinct ordered him to keep moving despite something in his side that screeched otherwise. What’s a few more collected souls? Wouldn’t Father, Stepmother, and Glenn be happier knowing that all of their enemies had been thwarted, and not just the one? And if these men stopped him from reaching that woman—what woman—what then? Then he could sink into the forest floor, lower and lower, until the roots wrapped around his wretched body and delivered him to some warm core. That warmth enticed him now—it had been so long since he felt it. He had started to believe it was a made-up memory, a myth, but here it was again—just beyond those lances. Would it really be so awful to reunite with something so sweet and forgotten? 

The dead screamed something at him he couldn’t hear. He quickened his pace, foot dragging behind him, inching closer and closer to the fire that promised to muffle their voices forever. A soldier took notice and alerted the others, barking orders in some nonsense language Dimitri couldn’t understand. The words were so silly they made him giddy, and he delighted in the fantasy of laughing over and over like this until it choked him. The soldiers pointed their pretty lances in his direction, fear flitting in their eyes. Dimitri wanted to kiss each and every one of their quivering lips—could they not see the ecstasy that awaited them all? The salvation in finally giving someone—anyone—what they wanted? 

He was so close to the warmth it burned his fingertips. Would they praise him and tell him he crashed through their shields like a good prince? He longed to curl into their laps where they could ruffle his hair affectionately like someone else never did, and perhaps the loveliness would be so much it would suffocate them all. 

His hazy eye caught a figure extending a hand too far for him to grasp. A woman in a blue gown with golden hair stood watch. She was a stranger, yet still he yearned to cling to her dress, to lurch both hands up in a desperate plea to be held. He gasped as he imagined her acquiescing to his petulance and rubbing his back in gentle circles, humming and shushing until the childish need was forgotten for another day. The woman uttered a soft name he could no longer remember, but the echo was enough to make hot tears run into his open mouth. 

Dimitri cried out to her as the warmth swallowed him whole.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading my first fic! This is actually part of a longer FE3H fic I'm working on where divine pulse works a little differently (to devastating results). I'm still finishing up the outline for that, but this short scene was so vivid in my head I just had to get it down. I figured I'd post it here for early feedback/practice as I dip my toes into the fanfic community. It doesn't really spoil anything in the fic, which itself will be canon-divergent. 
> 
> Maybe I'm too soft, but I always tear up when I think of Dimitri's mother and how much she would have loved him. He strikes me as such an affection and touch-starved individual, and of course that only gets worse during his five years of isolation. I need to wash this out with some tooth-rotting fluff. 
> 
> I'm very new to this community and fanfic in general, so let me know if there are other places I should be connecting with people! I would love to bounce ideas for my longer fic off of other FE3H fans—I've got a couple of narrative snags that are giving me a hard time.


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